


Bad End Friend Oneshots

by Jordan_Ilias



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 10:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jordan_Ilias/pseuds/Jordan_Ilias
Summary: Just some oneshots that I've had bottled up for a while.https://badendfriends.fandom.com/wiki/CharactersFor anyone who has NO idea what this is, go to the link. Most of the characters are my OCs (bad end versions of me and my friends), but the real ones will make appearances every once in a while.





	1. No More! (TL and Simulacrum)

“But he’s so cute! He even has a little scar across his nose, he’s perfect for us!” Simulacrum’s eyes, normally alight with insanity, now were rounded and pleading, just as much as the small grey kitten sitting in the pet shop window. Too Late stared back with a cold glare, unmoved by either.

“Sim, you know I’m allergic to cats. This would never work. Besides, we’re barely scraping by as it is! We don’t need another expense.”

“Can we just look? Please?” TL and Sim stared at each other for a moment, until TL rolled her eyes.

“FINE. We can look. But I’m _NOT_ getting you a cat.” Sim perked up immediately, the crazy glow returning to her eyes. Without a word, she rushed into the store. “My gods, I knew she was crazy but _damn_ …” TL continued to mutter as she followed Sim into the store.

Sim had already got to the front of the line and was now sitting on the ground playing with the kitten. He swiped at the laces of her boots, as though he was hunting a snake. Sim giggled and picked him up. The kitten mewled helplessly as Sim nuzzled his belly. TL watched the whole exchange, smiling slightly. Though the pair was cute, she knew that they simply couldn’t afford a cat. With Sim attending John Jay University, TL working nights at the church cemetery, and the rent price on their tiny New York loft rising, any money they could save was greatly appreciated.

Shaking her head, TL steeled herself. She approached Sim, who was now playing with the kitten's paws. “Who has the fuzziest lil’ squishbeans? It’s you! Yes, it is!” Sim continued to baby talk the kitten until TL dropped a hand on her shoulder.

“C’mon hon. We gotta go now.”

Sim turned around, clearly crestfallen. “But why?”

TL stayed strong. “Because the store is about to close, and I have to get ready for work. Let’s go home.”

Crossing her arms, Sim stayed resolutely on the floor. “No, I’m not leaving without Ersatz. We’ve bonded.”

Inwardly, TL swore. _I was hoping Sim wouldn’t get too attached…I should have known better._ “Sim, I told you. I don’t want one. Now let’s go. I’ll make mac and cheese for supper.”

If there was one thing Sim loved more than cats, it was food. She reluctantly stood up, still holding Ersatz close. “I’m sorry little buddy, I can’t take you home…” She continued to croon until they reached the counter, where TL gently lifted the kitten out of Sim’s arms and back onto the counter. Murmuring thanks, the pair walked out of the store into the brisk New York twilight.

* * *

 

Later that evening, TL and Sim were getting ready for bed. Sim was unusually quiet, seemingly avoiding TL as the pair prepared for bed. TL was unfazed. _I’m sure she’s still mopey about that cat. Maybe next time I won’t let her look._ She slipped out of her ripped tank top and gray denim shorts and into sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. She sat down to unlace her tennis shoes, and she peeled off her socks. “SIM, WHEN YOU COME OUT OF THE BATHROOM, TURN OFF THE LIGHTS PLEASE!” The bathroom door cracked open, and a knife flew out and hit the light switch. “THANKS!”

TL turned to her left, arms held out in the dark to find the ladder of her and Sim’s bunk bed. Her wrist collided with cold metal. Swearing internally, she grabbed the rungs of the ladder and climbed to the top. She lifted the sheets and crawled under the heavy weighted blanket. Shifting onto her left side, it wasn’t long before she drifted off to slumber.

TL slept fitfully. She drifted in and out of consciousness, visions of smoke grey kittens floating across her eyes. Every once in a while, a piercing meow would ring in her ears, followed by Sim laughing. She tossed and turned until the jarring click of a radio turning on roused her. She blearily rubbed her eyes, and slowly made her way down the ladder. Shuffling towards the bathroom, she failed to notice Sim’s empty bed. She began to brush her teeth, blankly staring at herself in the mirror. She bent down to spit and rinse until a nearly imperceptible sound reached her ears.

“Mew?”

TL jolted her head up so quickly she hit her head on the faucet. “OW! DAMMIT! SIM!” Rubbing the knot forming on her head, TL quickly made her way to the living room. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight which awaited her.

Sim, holding 5 kittens, stared back at her.

In complete shock, TL struggled to form words. “What…how…who…” Suddenly, her command of the English language returned to her. Her right eye blazed to life, orange flames surrounding the white pupil. “SIMULACRUM, WHY THE HELL ARE THERE 5 KITTENS ON MY COFFEE TABLE?!”

“You said you didn’t want _one_. So I got five!” Sim grinned, pure elation radiating off of her.

TL pinched her nose, clearly contemplative. All 5 kittens and Sim stared at her hopefully. She opened her mouth to speak, then abruptly closed it and turned back to the bedroom. Over her shoulder, she uttered one thing.

“You’re cleaning the litter box.”


	2. Found You (TL and Genocide!Frisk)

Too Late sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. The sleeves of her forest green sweater slowly fell past her bloody hands and ripped light-wash jeans sagged around her fleshy waist. Her first semester of college started tomorrow, and she wanted to make a good impression. Plus, Identity Not Found had mentioned a good point - that it would be a little terrifying for other college students to see all of her bloody cuts, not to mention exposed ribs, heart, and lower spine. Begrudgingly, she had allowed 404 to drag her out shopping, and they had come home 6 hours later laden with bags. Then, TL had felt some excitement for the start of the new semester. But now, all she felt was disgust.

“TL, are you decent? Can I come in?” 

404’s over-toned voice traveled through the cracks in the door. TL sighed again. “Yeah, I guess.” The door creaked open and 404 entered. She glitched over to the mirror, where TL stared forlornly at herself. “404, I look awful…”

“Well of course you do.” TL snapped her head toward the normally-supportive 404 in shock, amazed by the cold-hearted response. 404 stared TL down for a few seconds before breaking into a cheeky grin. “We haven’t added the best parts yet!” She ran erratically to the bed where the shopping bags lay. She dove in head first, legs flailing wildly as she rummaged through the abyss of plastic and receipts. “Where are they…where in the world…HA!” A sharp laugh cut through the crinkling. Her head emerged, smiling maniacally. She rushed back to the mirror, holding something behind her back. She could barely control herself by the time she stood in front TL. She raised a singular eyebrow.

“Wha-

“COMBAT BOOTS!” Before TL could even finish the question, 404 pulled her hands from behind her back, holding a pair of light brown leather combat boots. “Put ‘em on! Do it!” 

TL could hardly argue with the childlike glee emanating from 404. She sat down and slid the boots onto her small feet; they were a perfect fit. She slowly and carefully laced them up. As she stood up, she realized she now had to look down to see 404. “They boost your height! Whaddya think?” TL couldn’t help but smile.

“I love them. Thank you so much 404.”

The pair hugged until 404 bounced back. “Okay! I’ll let you try on the rest of the clothes. Have fun!” She headed toward the door, and as she was about to leave, she turned back. “Oh yeah…TL?” She smiled. “Don’t forget: stand up straight, be confident, and smile. Everything looks better that way.” With that, she shut the door. TL smirked.  _ I guess she’s right. _ She looked back at the mirror.

Maybe the sweater wasn’t so bad after all.

Sweat ran down the back of TL’s back as she walked to her first class: The Science of Soulmates. The sweater she wore chafed uncomfortably on this unusually hot September morning. She looked down at her schedule once more, confirming where she was going.  _ Yep…Hunt Library, third-floor Anatomy Lab _ . The building stood before her, windows reflecting the early morning sunlight. As she entered, a blast of cool air greeted her. Sighing with relief, she checked her watch.  _ Sweet: it doesn’t start for a few minutes. I have time to grab a coffee. _

TL turned left into the small café. The barista greeted her. “Good morning, how may I help you?”

“Hi, may I have a venti iced almond milk mocha frappuccino please?”

“Certainly. Name?”

“T- Jesse.” TL hesitated before answering with her “human” name. As she retreated into the crowd waiting for coffee, she bumped into someone. Murmuring a hurried apology, she glanced up and her jaw dropped. An androgynous figure with slits for eyes stared back at her, stringy brown hair falling into their face.

“Excuse me…I think they called my name.”

A hand emerged from the purple and blue sleeve to pick up a cup off the counter; it appeared to be full of tea, and maybe…seaweed? She only vaguely registered the barista call her name. Numb, she walked forward and grabbed her coffee. Making her way out of the café, she checked her watch again.  _ Shit! I’m gonna be late! _ Shaking herself from her reverie, she rushed up the stairs to the third floor. She found the anatomy lab, entered, and sank into a swivel chair near the back of the class.

She peered over her glasses to take stock of her classmates.  _ Nobody special: looks like a bunch of nerds to me. _ She took a sip of her coffee, and the brown mane of hair in front of her shifted to reveal a cup full of tea. TL choked on her drink, and the androgynous figure from the café turned around. They seemed to smile slightly, though it was hard to tell. “Hey,” they said, voice slightly deeper than expected. “Looks like we’re classmates.” Still shocked, all TL could do was nod with her mouth agape. They continued, “I don’t think I caught your name. What was it?”

“Too Late.” Without thinking, TL responded with her Bad End name. The human looked at her strangely. “You can call me TL, or Jesse if it’s too weird,” she quickly added.

“Too Late…” Their hair fell into their face, and TL could swear she saw a red glint behind the brown locks. “It’s fascinating. I like it. Nice to meet you, TL. I’m Ch-Frisk.”

The two shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Frisk.” A warm feeling came over TL before ice ran up her spine as Frisk looked up. Their eyes had been replaced by two blood red orbs, and their face contorted into an evil grin. When they spoke, their voice had changed. Now distinctly feminine, they spoke again.

“I have a feeling we are going to be great friends.”

TL’s heart raced so fast, she wondered if it showed through her sweater. The classroom was suddenly very full, and chatter surrounding the pair. As Frisk turned around, the teacher walked into the room. He was a severe looking man with thin-rimmed spectacles. He peered over them and rapped the desk in the front with his hand. “ALRIGHT, that’s enough. Hello folks, I’m your professor. My name is Mr. Melofeuyt, and welcome to the Science of Soulmates. Is there anyone who doesn’t belong here?” When no one walked out or raised their hand, he continued.

“This course will not be easy. This will not be a class where you can decide whether or not you participate. I expect full effort from each and every one of you. I know better than most that this subject is not one to be messed with.”

One brave girl in the front of the classroom raised her hand. All TL could see of her was a pile of flame-colored curls on the top of her head. “What do you mean by that sir?”

The teacher quirked one eyebrow up. “What is your name?”

“Amaia Raphiquelle, sir.”

“Alright, Amaia. So you want to start lessons on the first day? Fine.” He rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a tattoo. A neat, cursive script sat upon his wrist.

 

_ Nice to meet you, whoever you are. _

 

“I’m sure by now, all of you know that whatever your soulmate writes on themselves appears on your skin as well. However, what you may not know is that the last thing they will ever write stays on your skin - forever. And for those of you in the back row,” he lifted his wrist, his hand shaking. “This hasn’t faded for 20 years.” He stared at the class, making eye contact with each enraptured face.

“I never met him.” A few kids gasped, which did not go unnoticed. “Yes, I know, I said I never met  _ him _ . If you have a problem, you can walk out right now. I will not have bigots in my class.” An eerie silence settled over the class as the professor bowed his head. No one dared to speak or move. In a hushed voice, he continued.

“Not everyone is fortunate enough to meet their soulmate. If and when you find them, cherish every moment you have with them.” He lifted his head and jutted his chin out resolutely. He turned towards the girl who had asked him the question. “Does that answer your question, Miss Raphiquelle?”

The poor girl seemed so shocked she could barely speak. “Y-y-yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

He smiled, and deep lines in his face revealed themselves as his eyes crinkled. “Please. Call me Jacques.” He turned back to the rest of the class. “Now, I would like all of you to try an experiment with me. Take a permanent marker from this basket,” he gestured to a neatly arranged stack of markers. “On your palm, please write a simple greeting message. But take care not to reveal your name. You all know the rule.”

TL was exceedingly confused by this. As the class clamored for markers, she asked Frisk. “What’s the name rule?”

“If you reveal your name, you and your soulmate are destined never to meet.” TL noticed that their voice was back to normal. When they went to grab markers, TL noted that Frisk grabbed theirs with their left hand.

“You’re a southpaw?’

Frisk blushed a bit. “Yeah, I am.”

“It must be so nice for your messages to show up on your partner’s dominant hand. Unless they’re also a southpaw. How cool would that be?” TL immediately realized she was rambling and drifted off. The two were left in awkward silence, and they both returned to their seats.

TL uncapped her marker and gnawed on the end as she thought.  _ What should I say to my future spouse? Well, I might as well start simple. _ After another moment of deliberating, she pressed the felt tip to her skin.

 

_ Hello to you, wherever you may be. _

 

She smiled, proud of her work. She capped the marker, leaned back in her chair, and listened as the class erupted into chaos. She picked out Amaia’s voice in the crowd. “AAAAH I GOT A RESPONSE!!!!” The girls around her giggled and  _ ooh _ -ed and  _ aah _ -ed. TL smirked to herself, grateful she didn’t have to deal with that. She sighed with content and propped her feet up. However, she almost fell out of her chair when a warm feeling began spreading under the back of her right hand. She looked and miraculously saw letters forming on her grey skin.

 

**_Hi there. I can’t wait to meet you._ **

 

TL stared at her hand in shock and watched as more words appeared. She was surprised and slightly abashed as the next sentence formed.

 

**_You’d better like chocolate._ **

 

She giggled and leaned forward to show Frisk. “Look! I got a response! It looks like I am destined for a southpaw like you! Did you get a response?” She looked at Frisk, who was hiding their hands in their sweater sleeves. “Oh, Frisk…”

“Do you want to get lunch with me?” Frisk blurted. The red glow was back in their eyes, but they seemed less maniacal. Almost as if they were…nervous? TL, slightly taken aback, said nothing. Frisk’s face fell. “Nevermind, it was stupid-

“Sure.”

Frisk looked up. “What?”

“Sure. I don’t eat lunch, but I’d be happy to spend the noon hour  _ not _ by myself in a corner somewhere.” TL smiled kindly. “Why would I pass up a chance to get to know a friend better?”

“Yeah…friend…” Frisk fidgeted with the ends of their sweater sleeves. The two chatted amiably until the end of class. The rest of the class gathered by the door. When the electronic bell tolled, everyone in the crowd swarmed to exit the room, until TL and Frisk were the only ones left. TL noticed that although Frisk’s ruby eyes were wide, they weren’t very talkative. They chewed their lip nervously, opening their mouth to speak but quickly closing it again.

“Something on your mind?” TL cocked her head to the left questioningly. Frisk inhaled sharply, red pinpricks darting back and forth. They appeared as a cornered animal. “Frisk…?”

“Yes…sorry. I’m okay. But…” they exhaled slowly as if to steel themself. “I have a really strange question.”

“I’m sure I’ve heard worse,” TL smiled genially. “What’s on your mind?”

“Are you a Bad End?”

This stopped TL dead in her tracks. “I’m sorry?”

Frisk began to babble nervously until the red glow returned to their eyes. The feminine voice spoke once more. “Come on. No human is named  _ TOO LATE _ . So obviously you’re not human. I, myself, am a Bad End. You can call me Genocide Frisk.” They bowed dramatically. “Although I am known as Chara also.”

TL was still frozen. She had only heard stories of Chara, one of the most famous BEFs out there. Many of the BEF community knew her as the fourth Main BEF. “Wow…you’re all but a legend to us…I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you! I have, like, a jillion questions. What’s your body count? What’s your method of choice? How-”

“TL!” Chara interrupted. “Please. I am still the same person you met. I am not stuck up, unlike  _ some  _ Bad Ends I know.” TL barely heard her mutter as an afterthought. “Damn that three-sided bastard…”

TL struggled to process this. One question rose to the forefront. “Wait…”

“Yes?” Chara gazed at her steadily. “What is it?”

“Are we still on for lunch?” TL was shocked to find herself…blushing?!  _ Get a grip! _

Chara smiled, maniacal, but not entirely unkind. “I think that sounds lovely.” She held out a crooked elbow. “Shall we?”

TL giggled and wrapped her arm around Chara’s. “We shall.” The duo dissolved into laughter. Both hefted their bags and made their way to the Chick-fil-A across campus. Once they got there and placed their order, they sat across from each other at a booth. They talked animatedly until their food came, at which point they began to snarf down the chicken and fries with the vigor of two broke and starving college kids.

As they wrapped up eating, they began to talk again. Chara was extremely animated, and when they finally ran out of things to talk about, she rolled up her sweater sleeves and sat back in the bench. “This has been really fun TL. We should hang out more.” TL didn’t respond. Chara tilted her head, before realizing her mistake. She hurriedly went to pull her sleeves down, but TL stopped her. On Chara’s left hand sat TL’s messy cursive script.

 

_ Hello to you, wherever you may be. _

 

TL stared at Chara, mouth agape. “Listen, TL, I can explain…” She never finished her thought. TL leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to Chara’s. As she pulled away, she smiled, the ends of her mouth quirking upward slightly.

“Found you.”


	3. Have A Knife Day (Sol and Sim)

_ Hey. _

“Shut up.”

_ But I didn’t say anything. _

“Don’t care. Shut up.”

404 looked up from the kitchen table, her glassy eyes darting around the dim room. “Who are you talking to, Solitude?” Her voice dipped once in the middle of the sentence, staggering between frequencies like a corrupted MIDI file. She cleared her throat and pounded her chest, knowing it wouldn’t fix her fluctuating sets of vocal cords, but did it anyway out of habit.

“It’s telepathy. Who do you  _ think _ ?” Sol asked 404 with a rhetorical connotation, while Sim grimaced from her place on the velvet armchair. A laptop was floating out in front of her at eye level, surrounded by a thick red aura, as she typed away.

_ You need to do your part on this project, Solitude. _

All four BEFs had coincidentally been given the same project assignment in college two weeks earlier, so why not do it together, they thought? It would be such a good idea since they were friends and all, they thought. They even asked for special permission, since they weren’t all in the same class hour. It would be fun, they thought. 

Bad idea. Not fun.

About an hour earlier, TL had done everyone a favor and baked chocolate chip cookies to lighten the mood a bit. However, the fresh smell of the rising batter had soon been overwhelmed by the thick, stressful atmosphere that now filled the common area of the house. The whole thing is due tonight at 11:59 PM, and they haven’t even finished the intro. TL had escaped to her room as her anxiety mounted, and no one heard from her since. 404 tried to bring her cookies but she coldly refused them without opening the door. It had been one of their worse days.

Anyway - “We have better things to do.”

“Says the try-hard whose idea it was in the first place,” Sim replied out loud this time. Sol growled and blew a strand of hair out of her face, fidgeting with the end of her braid.

“Not my idea to procrastinate.”

Sim slammed her laptop shut. The scleras of her eyes swam with black, like ink in a pool of clear water. “And are you suggesting that it was  _ my _ idea?”

“Yes.”

Silence. Sometimes that’s the most concerning. If no one could think of anything to say, a line had been crossed.

A knife sprung to attention beside Sim. (Where did it come from? There’s no use in asking at this point…) At the same time, she lowered her laptop delicately onto the side table. The knife staggered in midair until it was pointing directly at Sol’s chest.

 

d̟̩̤̞̃̅͒͘ǫ̛̻͙̜͈̘̹̺̃̃̏̑̔͗͞ ̫͚̰̺̓̓̔̒y̨̬̲͛̃͐ô̗͈͋͟͞ủ̢̪̖̝̙͎͕̗̗̾̈͆̑̉͂̚͡r̰̗̝̻͈̰̗̐͆̐͒̚͡͝ ̡̛̬̠̙͙̉̍̿̇p̞̙̤͈̟̩̘̓̑̄̾̅͋͑a͚͐r̢̛̜̙̺͇̪͔̘̉͒̏̋̌̓̕͢t̗̟́̔ ̗̥͕͍́̏̃̓͢͢ơ̡̙͙̙͚̟̹̺̓̿̐̋̃̕̚r̪̫̻̓͗̐͌͜ ̪͂͡ͅl̠̣̺̟̲͚͗̓͛͡͠͠ǫ̼̯͚̳̬̆͑̊̃̈͌͘͟͞ͅŝ̙̩̉ė̖͙̩̱̘̥̜̰͔̅̏̊͑̋̈̈́̉ ̰̠̥̼̻̗͕̫͊͗͆͌́̃͊͠y̧̩̻͒̂̑̓͟oů̲̣̼͐̽͢͡ṙ̢͓̳͚͉̺̥̒̈́̓̔̚̚͜͡ ̡̙̰̞̜̺̼̭̫͎͒̔͐̄̽̌͋̇̂͞h̩͙̲̝̭̗̬͊͊̃͑͑̈́̎ē̦̟̞͚̮̠̂̇̓͋͞ȁ̘͘͢ŗ͕̜͕̩͇͐̉̓̇̽̏t̨̜̺͍͕͚͚͇̤̽̑̉͆͂͆̌̆,  said the demon.

 

“Joke’s on you. I don’t have a heart.”

Without warning, the knife sliced through the air, embedding itself just to the right of Sol’s sternum. This generated a satisfying  _ thump _ , earning a startled gasp from 404. 

Sol’s shadowed eyes widened in shock upon impact but in a few seconds her expression of slight surprise dissolved back into her stolid resting face. Sim twisted the knife around within her chest, its movements similar to those of an obstructed drill. At an achingly slow pace, Sol brought her hand up to the hilt of the knife, and in one swift motion, pulled it out as it was still moving. A small stream of blood was leaking from the wound.

“Was that supposed to hurt?”

Sim was fuming. 404 scampered over to try and calm her down. TL, hearing the commotion, had emerged from her room and was leaning against the wall around the corner of the hallway, barely visible.

Before Sim could murder her Caesar-style, Sol stated, “Don’t worry, I got the message.” She held her hands up in mock surrender. Soon, she had opened up her laptop and gotten to work.

The rest of the night continued in silence. 404 gradually shifted back to her position at the kitchen table, and TL sat beside Sol. They did end up submitting the project by 11:58 PM, with thirty-two seconds to spare. 

But as it turned out, Professor Rowlands changed the due date, which ended up giving everyone an extra week. Here they were, slaving away, only to find out that they actually could have gone to bed that night. Saying that they were annoyed is a  _ major _ understatement. 

All together this time, the BEFs plotted to murder their professor in his sleep that night.


	4. The Power of Cookies (BEF Squad)

“Solitude.”

A muffled groan came from Sol’s loft bed. A mountain of blankets and pillows shifted slightly as she readjusted herself. Too Late rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. “Get down.”

“Make me.” The blanket pile shifted slightly and Sol’s eyes peered out. 

TL took a deep breath, fighting back the literal flame of anger in her skull. “Solitude. If I have to go to college, so do you. Now get. Down.”

“No.” Sol once again refused, and TL couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“SOLITUDE YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE - SO MANY PEOPLE WOULD KILL TO BE IN YOUR POSITION, BUT NO,  _ I’M _ THE BAD GUY FOR MAKING YOU GET AN EDUCATION! NOW GET DOWN HERE OR SO HELP ME, CARNAGE!”

Sol was quiet for a moment, and TL’s heavy breathing echoed around the cave of a bedroom. “Nah.”

“Sol, do I need to get the others in here?”

“Go ahead. I’ll fight them.” If TL hadn’t known better, she could have sworn she heard a snort of laughter from the unmoving lump of blankets. “I’ll win, too.”

TL thought for a moment, then raised her hands in surrender. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone.” She exited the room, and Sol turned onto her other side and sighed. The last thing TL heard before shutting the door was an exasperated “ _ Finally. _ ”

As soon as the door shut behind her, TL giggled. “Oh, Si-im!” she called in a singsong voice. Simulacrum blazed into existence in front of her. TL grinned evilly. “We have some plans to execute.”

“Oooh, do we finally get to use K??? I’ve been waiting to do that one for forever!” Sim began to go on and on about the extensively-planned Alphabet o’ Death the two had had for a while. “No, no. Nothing like that. You see…” TL whispered her plan to Sim, whose grin got wider and wider.

“You’re awful…I love it. Let’s do it.”

The two dashed down the stairs, almost mauling Identity Not Found in the process. They hurriedly filled her in on the plan, and she giggled. “Awesome! Can I help?”

“The more the merrier. Come on!” TL gesticulated wildly. “She won’t be awake for much longer!” The trio headed downstairs, into the kitchen. Flour puffed in the air, sugar granules skittered on the floor, and milk glugged into a bowl. 30 minutes later, the smell of fresh-baked snickerdoodles filled the house. TL, Sim, and 404 listened intently, and they were rewarded. Shuffling from upstairs signaled the rise of Sol. The frail girl appeared at the top of the stairs, blanket trailing behind her. She spotted the tray of cookies and was off like a shot. She immediately wolfed down half of the batch and showed no sign of slowing down until TL snatched the tray away. Sol gave her a death glare, but the other three just grinned back at her. Sol’s face fell as if she finally realized where she was. She dipped her head to hide the blush.

“I  _ totally _ would have fought you guys…” TL just smiled.

“Yes, dear.”


End file.
